


The Various Ways Families Break Our Hearts

by AlmesivaMoonshadow



Category: Boruto: Naruto Next Generations, Naruto
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Domestic, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Loneliness, Other, Parenthood, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Post-War, References to Depression, References to Spousal Neglect, Teacher-Student Relationship, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-26 22:08:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15010472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlmesivaMoonshadow/pseuds/AlmesivaMoonshadow
Summary: Sometimes, during Sasuke's long absences, Sakura feels lonely. In those times, Kakashi always finds her.





	The Various Ways Families Break Our Hearts

It was a lonely affair to say the least.  
With Sasuke away - always, almost constantly.  
On all those trips, soul-searching - whatever he was doing.  
She seldom questioned it, because the rare moments he was by her side.  
Well, Sakura believed they were worth more then anything.  
Months blended together, it felt like it.  
Sometimes, even a whole year.  
And the weeks and days he was present -  
They felt like the only moments where reality was real.  
Like she wasn’t drifting through time and space half-awake, half-asleep.  
Running on empty, just - hibernating somehow - waiting for the figurative spring to arrive.  
Dodging Sarada’s questions, Ino’s gentle teasing and coaxing - Hinata’s well-concealed sympathy and pity.

 

 

Yes, pity.

 

 

Sakura Haruno, now Uchiha, was Konoha’s top medical practitioner, a student of a former Hokage descendant from the honorable line of Hashirama Senju himself, a war hero, an idol and champion for many a girl around the village, the strongest woman alive, some would say - a mother to an ancient, powerful dying line now renewed through her daughter, but something was missing. Something wasn’t entirely right. She would’ve never imagined that all her girlhood dreams, hopes and aspirations would’ve fallen down to this right here after the war. Or did she? To being the unwanted, jilted wife. The abandoned spouse. Tending to an empty, perpetually quiet household while Sarada was attending the academy. She felt like a stereotype, almost, for lack of a better word - a badly written archetypical character in Master Jiraiya’s novels, back in the days. The forsaken housewife. It’s been several months since Sasuke disappeared to another one of his - well - globe-trotting. His missions. Highly classified. Sealed. Concealed. Without a trace. A word. A greeting. She understood duty always came first for a ninja - but, despite all her logical reasoning, all her justifications, all the late sleepless thinking binges in an empty bridal bed when Sarada couldn't see her worried, restless and unblinking somewhere after midnight, she couldn’t help but feel -

 

 

Avoided.

 

 

She would rather die then admit it, of course - feigning complete and utter serenity while seeing Hinata and Naruto in love as ever before, despite his frankly, rather overwhelming duties as Hokage - witnessing Shikamaru's and Temari's domestic bickering on a daily basis, blurring back into affection as quickly as it disappeared - even Ino and Sai, as unlikely of a pairing it was, was in it's own way dedicated, kind and loving. Ino, of all people. One-upped by her, after all - in more ways then Ino herself realized. Sakura felt like the only one who lost. Who walked out defeated. The bitter aftertaste in her mouth was always there when she jokingly related the anecdotes concerning Sasuke forgetting every anniversary, every date, every major occasion - everything. Brushed it off as endearing and simply the way things are with a smile. He's just busy. Preoccupied. Nobody has to understand what goes on between them except the two of them. It's their thing. Their game to play. They make the rules. They break them. And she knew that - from day one. She knew it would be like this. Nonetheless she went through with it, despite of, in the deepest, most remote corner of her soul - hidden, out of view and knowledge, still yearning from hearts and flowers and swooning and romance and the stuff of fairytales. What a foolish notion.

 

 

A notion so foolish, in fact, that it led her to sob next to the kitchen counter she was polishing.  
Lids heavy and tears streaming down her face, she felt ashamed almost - like she was guilty of some horrible transgression.  
Afraid of getting caught, seen, exposed for the miserable wreck was right now, at the moment.  
Guilty of even dreaming, of even contemplating of wanting something different - better, maybe.  
Although, she wasn't certain if she should use the term better in the first place.  
This was already as good as it was getting - and desiring more, well -  
It would be out of place, abnormal, strange, outlandish.  
Perhaps even underserving in her particular case.

 

 

What would've Ino said if she saw her like this? - The thought made her shudder in complete humiliation.

Was she by chance, jealousy of Ino? Her best and oldest friend? Yes, a little - unfortunately.

She felt like there was no worse loneliness then that of a failed marriage.

Or a marriage currently on the verge of failing, held together only by the thin, red string of fate.

Held together by everything Ino seemed to have with Sai and everything she herself didn't have with Sasuke.

So, in a sense, Ino won their little childhood competition by giving up on their mutual love for the Uchiha boy, and moving on - how ironic.

 

 

Sakura lost by winning him.

 

 

 

_-”Hmm. A bad time, is it?”-_

 

 

The questioning, curious voice at the doorway made her jump slightly, like a child with her fingers stuck in a jar of strawberry jam - couldn't believe she let her guard down like that when she spotted something, possibly even worse then Ino Yamanaka for the time being - if things could even get worse in the first place. Kakashi Hatake, appearing as bored and as nonchalant as ever before. Dragging along like he was on the verge of sleep, one hand in his pocket, expression hooded and guarded within in the shadow of the entrance's frame. He had the tendency of showing up like this. Unannounced. Just out of nowhere and usually she would've welcomed such a gesture - for old time's sake. Him checking up on her was always a pleasant thing - nostalgia for an old-teammate - except, today, it wasn't. She could've barred the door, but that would've hardly stopped a former Anbu Captain, Kage and veteran of that high, legendary caliber. Would've popped in through her window otherwise, knowing him and he would've discovered her either ways. Weeping. And it wasn't even noon. She felt like she was just caught with a bottle of liquor, attempting to drink herself to a stupor. Except, she was caught weak and that felt twice as acerbic. She just couldn't respond to him right. Obviously, it was a bad time - an unfortunate time - but she didn't have the energy to vocalize it upfront and put on a swift act, wiping her wet cheeks and attempting to take it like a grown woman and compose herself. Wishing she had a batch of onions nearby so she could pin the blame on that instead - but, like that would've helped. Kakashi Hatake saw through everything.

 

 

_-”I’m not going to ask if you’re not going to tell me.”-_

 

 

He was brief and discreet - offering her a clipped kind of comfort, turning to leave, giving her privacy.  
Ever-so respectful and courteous - without any poking or prodding or unnecessary theatrics and unease.  
Then and there, something broke within her and it only brought the salt in her throat pouring back up.  
It was like a long-concealed flood - driven, perhaps, by the fact that she wanted someone to see her cry.  
So someone, anyone, in spite of her own stubborn pride, could try and understand - listen what she was going through.  
Let her weep and weep until she was clean and dry and prepared to move on with life again like a Ninja should.  
Sakura was outed and betrayed by her own damn feelings, as usually - nothing new on that front.

 

_-"It's him again, isn't it?"-_

 

 

Kakashi pinned her down with a single eye, hitting the nail right on it's head.  
He knew - right away - without her even uttering a single word or throwing around any hints.  
He simply knew and that made it both easier and harder for her - now she didn't need to explain, struggle with words.  
But now, all her secrets were out in the open, painfully obvious - like a gaping, bleeding wound.  
What hurt her most is when Kakashi Hatake said "again" - making it appear a thing of norm.  
As if though it was that apparent that the cause of most her anguish was indeed, Sasuke.  
Always and near constantly - before she even received her headband and first kunai.

 

_-"Maybe the reason I've never made the commitment. Lesser the chance of disappointing someone."-_

 

 

Kakashi remarked ildly on matrimony, taking a step back and approaching the shelf next to the corridor entrance.  
Examining the photographs placed beneath the kitchen cupboard, next to a set of vases and common décor - few and far in between.  
Toying with the wooden picture frame - one of Sasuke, her and Sarada together - another, from their ceremony.  
Another, rather old one - of Team Seven - a time far bygone and now lost, it seemed.  
She didn't want to sound ungrateful or someone of high maintenance.  
Almost flustered and clumsy while taking a deep, purifying breath.  
Not like things were that bad between her and Sasuke.  
She was just having a moment of weakness.  
That was all, really - honestly.  
They still loved each other quite dearly.  
Sasuke merely had an unconventional way of going about it, is all.

 

_-"I'm not disappointed! I'm not - I just -"-_

 

 

She was trying, desperately, to swerve off topic, curve this entire mess somehow and get out of it as quickly as possible lest she makes everything worse for herself, creating excuses and stumbling about in a manner that would make Tsunade shout her down and command that she compose herself, giving up prematurely when Kakashi conjured up a knowing look. Who was she kidding? Really, who? No use in lying to him. No use in playing the denial game. The ignorance card. He was with them from the start. A teacher knew his students better then anyone. Better then her own parents, even. Better then she knew herself, at certain instances. That was the foundation of all teamwork. He knew enough to let down one of the shutters to offer them a reasonable amount of intimacy from prying eyes and the painfully bright, searing high-noon sunlight outdoors. She welcomed the sudden, contrastive darkness. She welcomed the gesture itself. Inhaled and exhaled, finally - feeling relieved for a reason she couldn't quite place. Like she could confess in peace for a change. There was no Ino and her curious questions about what goes on between her and Sasuke and ways she could make herself seem more appealing to grab his attention. None of Hinata's gentle, courteous pity. Temari's lengthy explanations on how she should hold down on her husband tighter like she does with Shikamaru. Karui's belief that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach. Naruto's loud and brash promises to smack Sasuke over the head if he steps out of line. There was just her and Kakashi Hatake.

 

 

 

_-"I'm just the same old stupid girl, ain't I? Always expecting something that isn't there. After all these years. I never, ever learn my lesson, do I?"-_

 

 

She uttered her words with a tinge of sadness, head downcast, toying with her fingers to distract herself.  
After all, she was rejected by Sasuke, so many times, hurt by him, so many times, near killed, so many times -  
Called stupid and useless and a bother and a burden and an annoyance and a pest and a weakling so many times.  
Abandoned and forgotten, so many times, put in jeopardy and harm's way and everything humanly imaginable -  
That she had to wonder, as genuinely as she could, how was this treatment surprising all of a sudden?  
What part of his behavior did she expect would blossom into what she always fantasized it would?  
Did she really expect he would sit by some porch with her, hold her hand, give her flowers and swoop her into his arms like a princess?  
The Sasuke of her imagination and the Sasuke of her reality were two separate entities, apparently.

 

As distinctly different as the sun and the moon.

 

 

_-"Hope. It works like that sometimes."-_

 

 

Kakashi added briskly, tone as dry as the desert - resignated and empty beyond comprehension, frighteningly so - like he's been through a similar predicament himself again and again and in that time-frame of a split second she forgot how to breathe. He lost his father. Obito. Rin. So many people he held close. Of course he understood. Of course he related. But, did she really deserve this? All of this? This negligence and solitude and lack of fulfillment and all this - well, nothingness, to be frank? All this waiting and waiting and waiting. Did Sarada? I mean, yes - she felt stupid. And yes, she felt like such an idiot for ever even pursuing someone who made it abundantly clear that he didn't want her time and again and who had the emotional intelligence of a damn rock, but did she really deserve to be the one who loves more? Probably did. She projected everything on a man who made it his personal mission to run away from the village, avenge his clan, kill his brother, then try and kill those who played his brother, then save the village he was out to destroy in the first place, then go out into the world and collect daisies, she assumed. Anything, but stay. By her side. With their daughter who craved his love, approval and attention like she once and still craved it too. It was her fault for having high expectations. What was she thinking? No, it wasn't. Really wasn't.

 

 

_-"Sensei?"-_

 

 

She spoke up suddenly, mouth gasping for air, but her voice firm, brave and determined nonetheless - the old Sakura she knew and relied on re-emerging at long last like a beacon of light. The old one who was sensitive, insecure and co-dependent who ruins everything she touches, gone and put to sleep, for the moment anyway - hoping she'd stay away so Sarada wouldn't catch her in a bad state when she comes home and notice her breakdown.

 

 

_-"Is it bad that I want to be - is it unrealistic?"-_

 

 

She coaxed carefully, unable to formulate and finish sentences properly, knowing her mentor would understand anyway - he was pretty much the only one who did - hoping the answer would be _"yes"_ straight away so she could go back to hating herself, where everything made more sense. Her comfort zone. Her bubble. Her self-loathing, overly critical sanctuary. She lived there alone and she grown used to it. There was no other place to go.

 

 

_-"No. Never."-_

 

 

Kakashi retorted - clean, easy and as sharp as an arrow-head.  
There was no judgement from him, no mockery, no lack of empathy.  
She asked him if her needs were truly abnormal, and he didn't flip out.  
Tell her to grow up, move on, harden, develop a spine, that she was being juvenile.  
He merely said that they weren't, and before either of them could react, Sakura leaned her head against his chest.  
Pulled into a hard embrace, she ranted, sobbing again like a waterfall, soaking in his scent and feeling safe.  
Trying to imagine what it would be like if Sasuke himself spoke to her like this.  
If he was in Kakashi's place- if he stood here right now, present and aware.  
With his arms firmly around her, smoothing the back of her head.  
Instead of being somewhere - who knows where.  
So far away from mind and sight.

 

_-"I just want him to be here! Wake up here! Go to sleep here! See Sarada grow! Talk to me! Do mundane, meaningless things couples do! Be a father! A husband! Take me on a date and actually remember going on a date! Actually enjoy it for once! Not act like it's his obligation to spend time with me and apologize when he doesn't! Walk down the street with me hand in hand! Make everyone else wish they were us! Feel proud to have me! Show me off! Shut everyone's mouths! All the questions! Talking! Not act like this is all some kind of - death sentence he has to live with! Not have the need to put everything before me!"-_

 

 

Sakura banged against his chest with hardened fists, losing herself to a stupor of flourishing anger, surprising herself for a brief blip, raving wildly and letting it all come out - all the venom, fire and resentment - must've been holding this in for longer then she herself could comprehend - feeling weak and faint and enraged at herself and everyone around her for having to lie, for having to make things up, for having to fake everything, for having to forgive and forget so many things, for having to be so flexible all the time, justify why Sasuke forgets her birthdays, the date Sarada was born, why he hardly visits, why he focuses on his work with more passion and dedication then he does his own wife and daughter, why he's an absentee dad, why he's so blasé about everything, why he's semi-apathic, cold and detached from them as a collective, why he treats her like a chore more then a partner, why going out with him on the spare occasion, once in a blue moon, feels like a wake rather then an exciting occasion, why in spite of her trying and trying and trying, nothing seems to change much, in any conceivable direction. Not realizing the pressure of her pounding knuckles extracted a groan of pain from Kakashi's loud, rumbling throat. She forgot her strength in the heat of the moment. She wasn't Tsunade's student and heir for nothing, after all.

 

 

_-"It's the way of the Ninja. To serve from the shadows. Protect at the cost one's own happiness. An Oath we all took."-_

 

 

Kakashi grabbed her wrists and stopped her in place, making her raise her gaze up towards him.  
The realization dawned on her - he lost a father to said duty - his own sensei, Minato Namikaze.  
The Fourth Fire Shadow - he lost comrades and friends and loved ones and even family.  
But, he never once lost his firmness of character - yet, here she was.  
Sniveling and being a brat - she was only losing a husband.  
He was alive and well and unharmed, at least.  
He could've been dead - like Rin.  
Like Asuma, like Hiruzen.  
Like everyone they lost in the war.  
Wasn't the first time she and Kakashi talked like this - about this.  
While he was Hokage, and afterwards - but, this was the first time she realize how close they were.  
She was closer to her own mentor then her spouse and that ached - because she didn't want to be closer to anyone then Sasuke.

 

 

It was so easy, though - so easy to form bonds in his absence - so very easy. It was laughable, almost.

 

 

_-"But he's the only one who pushes that oath to these extents."-_

 

 

She added bleakly, almost snapping, at long last, letting her shoulders drop as her Sensei's finger brushed a stray lock of pink hair from her face making her realize how love-starved she was - craving physical contact and conversation alike, comparing Sasuke to Naruto in her head, and how in spite of all his obligations and duties and expectations and his dreams coming true, he was still here, close by, at least - the stubborn, loudmouth knuckle-head who once had a misguided crush on her - now, the proud, stone face etched into the mountainside above the skyline watching over the Leaf Village, and Gai, sending her kisses and amorous advances who always rejected with disgust and tremor - and that one boy who's name she forgot and misplaced, dedicating his love letters to her and even Ino Yamanaka herself, who was her first rival and best friend - who she wanted to be and who she wanted to defeat, and now, above all else, Kakashi Hatake, the man planting a chaste kiss on her cheek. It's not that she didn't love Sasuke. She did. More then anything. But, she needed his love here and now. Not figuratively. Metaphorically. Platonically. One day. Eventually. When he runs out of excuses and becomes too tired to avoid her. No. Now. So much so that her legs gave out, her knees turned to jelly and she found herself picked up by Kakashi Hatake, carried like a bride - weightless and soft - the way she always wanted to Sasuke to carry her without her needing to beg or remind him to, and placed on the nearest recliner with a familiar, war-weary and battle-calloused hand on her wet, crimson cheek.

 

 

_-"I know."-_

 

 

Was all he said - it was more then she usually received out of anyone, so she was content.


End file.
